Rising Storm
by AquilaTempestas
Summary: The prison gates have kept them safe for a number of months, but it can't hold forever. With a growing number of walkers appearing, and a mysterious threat from within, can Rick and his band of survivors fight to live another day? Eventual Daronne.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**

The rights to The Walking Dead belongs to Frank Darabont.

**Title**

Rising Storm

**Summary**

The prison gates have kept them safe for a number of months, but it can't hold forever. With a growing number of walkers appearing, and a mysterious threat from within, can Rick and his band of survivors fight to live another day?

**Special Thanks**

Thanks must go to islashlove for helping me gain the courage to actually write this. She's been a great help – could not have done this without you. Also, thanks to my good friend, Spinster-TheWisp-Magic95, for your assistance and encouragement as well. As for pairings, this will end up being a Daronne only because I'd love to see them end up together in season 4.

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**Prologue**

Threatening clouds, stretching for miles, painted the usual blue sky a dark grey. Beams of jagged light appeared in a clouds, briefly providing light in the darkness. A roar of thunder followed afterwards, sounding much like an avalanche rolling down a mountainside. Rain bucketed to the ground, drops falling horizontally as the wind pick up its intensity, making it difficult to see. But the weather was the least of their worries.

Walkers. A small bunch could be dealt with, even around thirty walkers could be handled with the right strategy, but this horde was massive. There were well over a hundred walkers, all making the trip to the prison gates, seeking out fresh meat. "We can't possibly take them all on," Glenn said, turning sideways to face Rick.

Rick knew Glenn was right. There was far too much at stake; he had a lot more people to look after now. Taking huge risks would result in many deaths and that was something he didn't want on his conscience. But what else could they do but stay and fight? Running wasn't a good option. The Governor was still out there and determined to put an end to his people. "We have to try."

Glenn lifted a brow, "You can't be serious. You know just as well as I do, this is a fight we can't possibly win."

"The walls will keep them at bay for now," Rick replied solemnly. Was this how it was going to end? "We have an advantage over the walkers."

"And what would that be?" Glenn retorted.

"We can think." Some of the walkers reached the prison gates, and placed their arms through the holes, desperately grabbing at air, thirsting for meat. Their animalistic growls would fill the air tonight. "Running is not an option. There are more of us now. Give everyone a gun. Take positions along the wall. We'll shoot down as many as we can."

Glenn nodded. "Let's hope we survive the night. I'll go and tell the others the plan." Without giving Rick further chance to speak, Glenn walked away from the wall and entered the inside of prison complex. As he made his way back to the main area, he heard faint sounds of an unfamiliar noise coming from below. He frowned. The noises obviously weren't human, and they didn't belong to the walkers either.

He decided to investigate further and followed the source of the sound. With a fire axe in his hand, he crept down, careful not to draw unnecessary attention to himself. It was possible some left over walkers remained hidden in the shadows of the prison. As he continued to explore, the mysterious sounds became louder.

His heart beat quickened. He drew closer and closer to the source of the sound. The stench of the undead reached his nostrils and he knew he had found the thing he was looking for. There it was. Two in fact. Two walkers eating a corpse. Glenn moved closer, curiosity urging him forward. They were walkers alright, but not like the ones he had become familiar with. These were bigger. They were at least a good head taller than the other walkers, and a lot wider in width. He ducked behind a wall, trying to settle his frenzied beating heart. Once he had calmed himself down a little, he peeked around the corner and watched closely.

One of the walkers stopped feasting on a corpse and gazed up, as if sniffing the air. It looked around, its head stopping in the direction of Glenn. Glenn froze. If he didn't make a sound or didn't make any abrupt movement, perhaps the walker would ignore him? The walker stood up, dead skin covered in dead man's blood. Glenn noticed the walker's face was concealed by a steel helmet, covering its entire head and neck except for a three holes for the eyes and mouth.

It suddenly lurched forward, a bucket load of foul-smelling green-yellowish liquid spilling out of its mouth and onto the floor. Glenn's stomach lurched; he immediately brought a hand to his nose to block the smell from making his head spin. The large walker made a gagging noise and vomited again, covering the floor in the liquid.

Glenn knew he had to move now. He stood up and made a break for the nearest door, not daring to glance behind him. The prison was no longer safe from within. He heard the monstrous groans of the walker behind him. Shit shit shit, he thought, as he raced through the darkness. What the heck were they going to do now?

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This is my first attempt at writing Walking Dead fanfiction so I apologize if everything seems totally off. I was a little hesitant about writing this. I hope it turned out alright. Reviews are much appreciated!


	2. The Sickness

**Disclaimer**

The rights to The Walking Dead belongs to Frank Darabont.

**Title**

Rising Storm

**Summary**

The prison gates have kept them safe for a number of months, but it can't hold forever. With a growing number of walkers appearing, and a mysterious threat from within, can Rick and his band of survivors fight to live another day?

**Special Thanks**

Thanks to islashlove and guest for giving this story a chance by reviewing the first chapter. Also, thanks to everyone who has added this story to their alerts list.

I apologize for any moments of out-of-characterness. Still getting the hang of writing about these characters.

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**Chapter One: The Sickness**

"What did you see?" Rick said, standing before Glenn, giving him a concerned look.

Glenn's heart was still racing; he had been fortunate to escape. The walkers were larger, but they were still just as slow. "Walkers. Bigger. Stronger." An image of the disgusting liquid appeared in his head, and caused him to shudder.

"How the hell did a walker enter the prison?" Tyreese said.

The group was silent; no one had any answers. The prison fences had not fallen, and no one had accidentally let any of them in, so where were they coming from? It was Hershel who eventually answered the question. "Flu virus. It's the only thing that makes logical sense."

Rick lifted a brow. "Flu virus?"

"We're susceptible to getting sick still; colds can't be prevented," Hershel explained slowly. It was as if he had figured it out himself at that precise moment. "Catching a cold in this environment will easily develop into the flu."

"But how did we get it? No one was sick when we brought them into the complex with us," Glenn said. "Do you think it's possible that something we've been eating is making us sick?" He thought of the pig farm out in the front. Were the pigs making them sick?

Rick shook his head. "No, I think we're the ones making the pigs sick. Like Hershel said, we're all infected. Our… sickness infected the pigs, and in turn we ate them, making ourselves more likely to catch an illness. When we die, we become walkers." His eyes searched the group. "We need to separate the healthy from the sick before we all come down with it."

Maggie looked shocked. "But that could be anyone!"

"Anyone that has shown the signs of a typical cold must be moved to the spare rooms away from everyone else. That way we can contain the sickness to one area," Rick said. "And as much as it pains me, sick children will need be separated as well." He hung his head.

"There's got to be a way we can fight it!" Tyreese said, glancing in the direction of Hershel. "Anti-biotics? Panadol? Anything!"

"There's a veterinary college that hasn't been touched yet. The drugs they use there are the same ones that can help us," Hershel explained. "The illness doesn't kill, it's the symptoms that do."

Daryl nodded slowly, then stood up. "That's fifty miles away… I'll take a group and we'll head out." He slung his crossbow over his shoulder, and started heading towards the exit door.

Michonne stepped forward, blocking his path. "I'm going with you."

"I'm coming too. I'm not letting anyone become walkers," Tyreese said, standing.

"I'll go and get Bob as well," Daryl said, as Michonne stepped aside to let him leave. "Meet me at the main gates." As soon as Daryl left, Michonne also took her leave. She was soon followed by Tyreese, leaving only Rick, Glenn, Carol and Hershel alone.

"We will need to keep tabs on everyone. Make a note of where everyone is, what they've been doing, who they have been hanging out with," Hershel said. "That way we'll know which people to separate. The quicker we do this, the better it is for the rest of us."

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Glenn left the meeting room feeling a little strange. At first he thought he was still feeling the effects of witnessing the vomiting walkers; the stench had made him feel nauseous. But the growing pain in his head made him fearful; was he coming down with the flu? If he was, how would he tell Maggie, the love of his life, that he was possibly going to die?

"Everything is going to be alright, Glenn," he told himself, as he headed back towards his bed. The further he walked, the more nauseous he felt. His head was starting to throb now. He swallowed and felt pain in the back of his throat. One of the common signs of an illness. He almost panicked, but managed to restrain himself. No need to scare the others right now.

He eventually reached his bed, and sat himself down, hunching over to stop his head from spinning. A cold wave swept through his body prompting him to shiver. Whatever was affecting him certainly moved quickly. "Glenn?" He jerked his head up. Maggie's voice. She was standing at his door, looking at him with great concern.

"Don't stand too close," he said, pulling his gaze away from her face.

She stepped closer. "What's the matter?"

"I… I found two walkers earlier today within the complex," he said, still looking away.

"Walkers? Inside the complex?"

Glenn nodded, coughing slightly. "They were bigger than the usual ones, but we think we know why. There's a flu going around and it's turning people into walkers, affecting us in different ways than a normal flu would." Now he felt tired. All he wanted to do right now was lie down and sleep, but he knew he couldn't do that. He had to isolate himself from the healthy before he turned. "I'm… I have got it." Now he looked at her.

Her expression turned from concern then to fear. "Glenn? No…"

He nodded again. "I need to stay away from you. I don't want to hurt you, Maggie." He looked away again, unable to see the hurt in her eyes. He stood up from the bed, and stared down at the floor. "I need to move to the other side."

"You're not going to turn into a walker, Glenn. I won't let that happen."

Again, he looked at her. "Daryl has set out with a group to find medical supplies, but if they don't get back… I want you to kill me before I turn." If he was going to die, he was going to die as a human, not a walker. "Will you do that for me?"

Tears were rolling down Maggie's cheeks, as she tried hard not to sob. He wanted to comfort her, to wipe those tears away, but he couldn't risk infecting her with the flu. "I will," she stammered, biting her lip hard.

He tried to smile. "I'm sorry."

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I've had to change the plot slightly to adapt to the current direction of the show. Reviews are much appreciated! Next chapter will be about Daryl and his group.


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